Taking into account the actual state of the Lands Between, the Dynasty preached a distinctive doctrine to its followers:
Since there was no way to completely escape the suffering before them, they should simply accept it and embrace that pain. The Formless Mother would grant all living beings love and joy.
That was what the Dynasty of Blood taught its followers.
They lured people into the faith, had them bleed to heal Mohg, then Mohg bestowed Accursed Blood to assimilate those stubborn types with promising futures. Those stubborn types became Bloody Fingers, and in turn brought even more followers into the Dynasty.
That way, Mohg was healed and the Dynasty grew stronger at the same time. It was practically a perfect closed-loop development strategy.
"The front line is nearly at its limit. My lords, the time has come to prove our loyalty. Hold them back until our Lord awakens."
Ansbach's gaze was sharp as he stared fixedly at the brutal scene in the middle of the battlefield. The blood army had taken grievous losses, yet it was still resisting tenaciously.
And ahead of them, that promised king was leading his army forward without pause, cutting through everything in his path.
Behind that Lord followed hundreds upon hundreds of Those Who Live in Death.
They came in all forms. Some were skeletons, eerie light flickering in their hollow sockets. Others were rotting corpses, reeking with a nauseating stench.
Like enraged beasts ruled entirely by instinct, they hurled themselves madly at the followers.
Beyond those resurrected dead, farther in the distance, one could see the Tarnished in all manner of dress, along with all those who refused the faith.
He truly was a merciful Lord. Just by the arrangement of his army, one could see the compassion he held for the weak and for life itself.
As Ansbach watched, he could not help but feel a stir of emotion.
"And yet a king like this is fated to walk the same road as my lord."
Ansbach's resolve did not waver in the slightest, nor did he intend to show mercy.
In a direct contest, the victor ascends the throne, and the loser falls dead upon the ground. That was the fate awaiting all who longed to become Lord.
"Where are the others now?" Ansbach turned to Varre at his side and asked loudly.
Varre gave a slight nod, stepped forward, and answered at once, "They're waiting by the entrance and can move out at any time."
Ansbach let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes, lamenting inwardly before taking a deep breath.
The Dynasty really had been plagued by misfortune. First their lord had been grievously wounded by some obscure upstart, and then the Dynasty's location, which should have been absolutely secure and unknown to outsiders, had somehow been invaded by that same enemy.
Could it really be that fate refused to favor this Dynasty?
Ansbach's mood grew heavier.
The Pureblood Knight's Medal could only be used by their own people, and the portal at their surface outpost was guarded as well. Even if every outer sentry had died, the Dynasty still should have received word.
But no one knew what had happened. That Lord had appeared right before them with an army in tow, giving the Dynasty no chance at all to catch its breath or respond.
They had not been prepared in the slightest.
From followers to knights, everyone in the Dynasty of Blood had been utterly dumbfounded just moments ago. How could they possibly react in time to such a sudden blitz? What followed was a confused, chaotic rout.
"But this time, no one will be helping Nolan Bethel. I'd like to see how many times the Eternal Queen will lower her veil for that man."
Standing to one side, Varre suddenly let out a cold laugh.
Back during the siege of Leyndell, he had just been taken from the battlefield by Mohg to undergo Accursed Blood transformation, so he had missed the struggle over Miquella. Now he very much wanted to see what this young Lord, whom Mohg had never stopped thinking about, was actually capable of.
That so-called promised king had been lucky, returning once more by riding the coattails of the Tarnished.
But in the eyes of the Mohgwyn Palace, that meant nothing. Lord Mohg would surely impale him upon the sacred spear and prove the majesty of a true Lord.
And once that overconfident young man was dealt with, the Dynasty of Blood could continue hiding in the shadows, watching the tigers fight from the mountain, until the time was ripe to announce the Dynasty's existence to the world.
Ansbach, however, was not so optimistic. Their original plan had been to fish in troubled waters while the Tarnished's return to the Lands Between threw everything into chaos.
Who could have imagined that this old rival would not only become the figurehead of the Tarnished, but would come to their door of his own accord? Ansbach did not believe Nolan was a fool.
When facing Lord Mohg, he had clearly shown extremely sharp combat judgment.
Ansbach did not dare be careless. He swept his gaze over the people around him and said gravely, "Let's go. That lordship must be tired of waiting as well. Our lord and Mother are both with us."
At the words "our lord and Mother," the eyes of the nobles and priests, who had still been somewhat tense a moment ago, lit up at once.
Then they all bent forward respectfully in a deep bow and shouted in unison,
"Our lord and Mother are both with us!"
...
"The way he's dressed, that has to be the mysterious 'old fellow' Lansseax mentioned."
The instant Ansbach stepped onto the battlefield, Nolan's gaze locked onto him.
While showing off the heroic bearing of a Lord in battle to Eleonora at his side, Nolan also kept a discreet eye on Ansbach and the people behind him from the corner of his vision.
When he saw Ansbach leading a large group charging this way, the corner of Nolan's mouth lifted ever so slightly.
If the one directing things at a time like this was not Mohg, then it could only be the Pureblood Knight captain.
Worth mentioning was that this group contained all kinds of people, and those deformed Omens so heavily despised outside had, here, transformed into exalted blood nobles.
To be fair, Mohg treated his own kind fairly well. At the very least, he gave them status, and that sort of thing would definitely have earned a storm of condemnation from the golden nobles in the royal capital.
Nolan gave the Omen-born son a couple of words of praise in his heart, then began wondering why Mohg still had not shown himself. Was he looking down on this promised king? Just then, Melina's voice sounded in his ear.
"Nolan, let's go!"
Caught off guard by that sudden burst of fighting spirit, Nolan blinked, then quickly realized this was part of Melina's recent change.
She was changing for the better. Or rather, changing in a direction Nolan personally found very favorable.
The change was so great that she had already gone beyond the level of merely being the wooden girl traveling with him. Truly cause for celebration.
"Can you stop looking at me like that?" Melina suddenly said.
"What kind of look?" Nolan froze, then asked with a baffled expression.
Melina pressed her lips together slightly and answered a little awkwardly,
"It's just... it feels like your eyes are sparkling or something, all twinkling like that. It makes people feel weird. Uncomfortable."
It was not that the look actually made her that uncomfortable. It was just that... she did not quite know how to meet it, so she wanted to avoid it.
"What kind of description is that?" Nolan rubbed his chin. Was having sparkling eyes really such a terrible look?